We Found Love
by Etoile87
Summary: She thought she was picturing the wrong guy - but he was the right one all along. Set during 3x10. St. Berry, mentions of Samcedes.


**AN:** Had to try to fix it. Had to. It was that cringe-inducing.

**Spoilers:** For 'Yes/No' (3x10), some general S3

**Disclaimer:** As always, they're not mine, otherwise this week's travesty would not even have come CLOSE to happening.

**We Found Love**

All the talk this week about weddings and proposals is making her vaguely jumpy for some reason. She hasn't been able to focus properly for a few days. Maybe it's Mr. Schue's latest assignment, or the fact that NYADA hasn't invited her for an audition yet – she _really_ needs to get off the message boards - or Finn wandering around mumbling about his dad, or helping Quinn with her Yale application. But all of a sudden, it's like everything is happening at once. She's always prided herself on being organized and in control – sure of her future. But lately, she feels a little disconnected. Stress, maybe.

So she's glad when Tina suggests re-arranging a classic song for their assignment. There's been far too much petty rivalry this year. She and Mercedes have finally put 'West Side Story' behind them, and now Mercedes, Santana and Brittany have re-joined after defecting to the Troubletones. It's nice to have the group back together and working on something.

And she still feels at home on the stage, under the bright lights. Maybe _this_ is what she needed. She's been struggling practicing in the choir room, or at home, lately. She usually finds it easy to interpret a song and inject it with the proper emotion. But lately she feels like something's in the back of her mind, blocking that connection between her thoughts and her heart and her voice. When she focuses on it, it hovers maddeningly just out of reach. But this, being on the stage - feels right again.

So when Brad starts playing the piano, she closes her eyes and relaxes into the soft ballad, trying to let that connection come to her naturally.

**The first time ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes**

_(Absolutely unbidden, she sees a pair of expressive blue eyes she'd never planned on picturing again.)_

What the hell?

She keeps singing without a waver in her voice - she's a professional - but she's belatedly realizing that she let her guard down in a dangerous way and she is not picturing the face she is supposed to be picturing, at all.

_(An infuriatingly cocky smirk. Dark curls. The most beautiful voice she's ever heard. Hands that are alternately musical, or hotly possessive, or gentle and reverent.)_

She's glad when the spot shifts off her and onto Tina so that she can stop struggling to keep her face so composed. As the other girl sings her part, she tries to rein in her traitorous mind, wonders again what is going on and where these thoughts are coming from.

**And the first time ever I kissed your mouth,**

**I felt the earth move in my hands**

_(The first time he'd kissed her - at the end of their first date - she vividly remembered struggling to form words afterward. He was arrogantly grinning at her - of course - but couldn't hide that he was affected, too - he was still holding her, and she could feel his heart hammering.)_

She listens to Mercedes and Santana sing and tries to control her breathing - tries to think of Finn - who, even though he hasn't been listening very well lately and hasn't asked about her NYADA application this week, is still sweet and funny and everything she is _supposed_ to want. Tries to think of kissing Finn and not kissing Jesse, singing with Finn and definitely not singing with Jesse - and oh God, it is _not_ working.

_(The first time they'd ever sung together, she'd jumped when people in the music store started applauding - she'd actually forgotten they were there for a minute. When she turned back to Jesse, she smiled, shy, pleased, and he smiled back, caught up in whatever this was, too.)_

**And I knew our joy would fill the earth.**

**And last til the end of time.**

**The first time ever I saw your face - your face.**

She is crying when the lights come up, and she hopes to God the rest of them think it's just due to the emotional weight of the song. But it's because she is stunned right now, she is confused, and more than anything, she is _terrified_ that she might be _making a huge mistake_.

She hears a gasp from next to her, and when she glances sideways, Mercedes has tears running down her face, too. And the distressed look on her face destroys any thought that it's just due to the emotional performance. Before anyone can say anything, the other girl jumps up and flees the stage.

Following is a no-brainer. Mercedes is so shaken that someone absolutely needs to go with her. Tina and Santana look too stunned to move, and something tells her that Mr. Schue will be absolutely useless.

By the time she pushes open the door to the girls' bathroom down the hall, Mercedes is bent over the sink at the end of the row, wiping her eyes angrily, as if to stem the flow of tears.

"Mercedes?" she asks tentatively.

"It's stupid," she sniffs. "So stupid."

She moves closer to put a comforting hand on her back, happy when the other girl doesn't flinch away. "Tell me."

"That song ... I wasn't supposed to ... But the first person that popped into my head was Sam."

And not her boyfriend. _Oh_.

Mercedes sniffs again and slides down to sit with her back against the far wall. Rachel rips a paper towel off the strip, dampens it under the cold water, then crouches down and offers it to the other girl to wipe her face with.

"Mercedes I know we've had our differences this year, but would you believe me if I told you I know how you feel right now?"

"This is about ... oh." Mercedes looks at her, and Rachel nods, and they sit in silence for a long few moments.

"I could always be myself with him," Mercedes finally breaks the silence. "I know I talk a good game, but - it's hard not to be scared about showing yourself to someone. It was supposed to just be a summer fling, but, he never made me feel like I had to hide anything."

"Mr. Schue told me once that the right boy is the one who likes you for everything you are - even the parts of yourself that you don't like," Rachel offers quietly. "You never looked happier than at prom last year," she adds, remembering watching the other girl laughing playfully at Sam's off-the-wall dance moves.

"Much as I hate to admit it because he insulted my audition, neither did you," Mercedes mumbles.

_(Truth be told, she would be hard-pressed to remember feeling happier - lighter - than when he was spinning her around the floor, making her forget all about Quinn, and Santana, and not feeling good enough - because he was looking at her like she was the only person who mattered.)_

"Do you think they'll ever forgive us?" Mercedes asks.

Rachel squares her shoulders a little, squeezes her friend's hand. "Just ... take it slow, and listen to your heart."

She stands up, brushes her skirt off.

"Mercedes ... Would you tell Mr. Schue I won't be at rehearsal today?"

Mercedes eyes her curiously. "Are you ... ?"

"Taking my own advice."

Well, part of her advice, anyway. There's only so slow she can take it.

* * *

><p>"Seriously, Aaron? You're leaving her out to dry there. She's putting her all into it, and you have about as much life as paint drying."<p>

Well. He _did_ learn from Shelby.

"Vocally, the first half sounded better - stop smiling back there, I didn't say _perfect_, I said _better_ - but it falls apart on the bridge. Take fifteen. I need to see some more energy when you come back."

She waits until the two dozen or so teens in various states of dishevelment make their way off the stage and out of the auditorium. Then she rises from the seat she's been silently occupying in the back corner for the last ten minutes and hesitantly makes her way down the aisle, heart hammering. Her heels make a muffled click on the carpeting, causing him to look up from where he's scribbling notes on the music sheets.

His eyes go wide for an instant with something like surprise before what she recognizes as his showface slams into place, neutral and not at all welcoming. "This is a closed rehearsal."

Well, she'd half known to expect this. Jesse is a volatile creature at the best of times - and the last time they'd seen each other, it had definitely _not_ been the best of times.

She takes a deep breath. "Hello, Jesse."

"And Rachel. How'd you know where to find me?"

"Did you really think I hadn't heard about Dustin Goolsby getting fired, and who replaced him?"

"Keeping up on the competition. Well, I guess some things about you never change." He turns back to the desk and starts to gather up some papers. "As I'm sure you know, this year's competition bracket doesn't put us against each other at Regionals - only if you make it to Nationals - "

"_IF_ we make it to Nationals?" she interrupts him indignantly.

" - Be that as it may," he continues, "I'm afraid I can't let you stay and watch rehearsal, enlightening as it might be."

"That's not why I'm here." She pauses. "Anyway, we're not even rehearsing for Regionals yet. You know Mr. Schue. So anything I see here wouldn't make a bit of difference."

He snorts with derision, and she can't say she disagrees. "Why doesn't that surprise me? What was his inane assignment of the week?"

"Love songs." She takes a deep breath. "I was singing. And I realized I was singing about you."

It's that simple, really - the truth her mind and her heart have been trying to connect on every time she sings.

The mask slips, and she can see something that might look like hope in his eyes. But the laugh he chokes out is humorless.

"Let me guess - Hudson screwed it up again. Not surprising, really. He's not bring enough to keep up with you. Never was, never will be. So you're miffed, and maybe wanting to make him a little jealous, so you go looking for what you consider the next best thing. Sorry. I can't do it this time. So, if you'll excuse me, I really need to run to my office before their break is over."

Anger flares up in her at his cavalier dismissal when he picks up some of the sheet music on the desk and makes for the side door.

"You know, when you showed up at McKinley after a _year_ with _nothing_ and broke into _my_ rehearsal without warning, I at least shut up long enough to let you apologize!" she snaps at his retreating back.

"Is _that_ what this is, then? An apology?" he growls, whipping back around. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks a lot like you changing your mind and deciding to yank my chain, _again_."

"I'm trying to apologize and doing a bad job of it." She struggles to articulate. "I'd been hurt. And I was scared. So I took the safe way out. And I'm so sorry, Jesse."

His eyes soften, but his voice still has that edge to it when he tells her, "Damn right you took the safe way out. Avoiding confrontation ... You couldn't even answer a text message. I had to find out you'd changed your mind via you kissing another guy in front of me - onstage in front of a packed house, no less."

"You're right. I have changed my mind over and over again. I've acted like this is a game. I haven't taken people's real feelings into account. And I've hurt people. So I owe you an apology. And I'm going to owe Finn one, too, when he shows up at my house after basketball practice like he does on Tuesdays and I don't let him in and break up with him without warning instead."

That shuts him up for a second.

"I would have done that first - I wanted to do this right, for you - but I didn't want to waste another minute, and Finn won't check his phone until after practice, anyway." She can't begrudge Jesse rolling his eyes, and it gives her the courage to take another little step forward. "He's not what I want. He never was, really, if I had been honest with myself sooner. It was ... the cliche. The glee club loser who comes up with the captain of the football team. It's like something out of a blockbuster romantic comedy, right? I was so wrapped up in having the perfect senior year ... the picture-perfect life."

"Why are you telling me this?" He doesn't look angry anymore, but positively exasperated.

"Because ... this is the future happening. Right now. And this is real. It's not a game, or a cliche. It's not a fantasy. I can't control it. And it scares me. But I want to be scared with you ... because you understand it. You understand me." She's standing in front of him now, and he's not turning away, so she reaches out and takes his hand. "I know life hasn't worked out the way you thought it would either - and I know I have to earn your trust back - but I think maybe, if you'll let me, I could be that person for you, too."

"Rachel, you are the one person who ever did understand me," he says quietly. "The one person who I looked at and saw as an equal. I've made a mess of my life - and I'm willing to pin most of that on myself - but," he sighs, but doesn't pull his hand away as he continues, "watching you walk away in New York was the hardest. I can't watch you walk away again. I'm getting myself back on my feet, finally. I'm finishing out the year at Carmel, and then I'm going to New York. If you're not sure of what you're doing here - if any part of you wants to stay here with Finn - if you're not the Rachel Berry that I fell in love with - then I need you to leave, right now."

She can see he's not quite ready to let her in yet. But for once, she knows what to do. Music has always been their first language - ever since they sang their 'Hello.'

There was something she'd come across earlier this week, briefly considered for Mr. Schue's assignment, and then rejected as too one-sided - as a solo, it's more a lament than a love song. She'd idly thought it would sound lovely arranged as a duet, showing reciprocal feelings - but it wouldn't work for this assignment. It will work for her purposes, here, if Jesse understands what she's doing. Somehow, she thinks he will. She looks him in the eyes and begins, lowly.

_I can't win, I can't reign,_

_I will never win this game without you - without you._

_I am lost, I am in vain,_

_I will never be the same without you - without you._

She pauses a second, waiting to see if he figures out where to go with this. Jesse St. James never misses a cue.

**I won't run, I won't fly,**

**I will never make it by without you - without you.**

**I can't rest, I can't fight,**

**All I need is you and I**

**Without you - without you.**

He squeezes her hand on 'you and I,' and she's trying to will him to understand that she means the next line more than she's meant anything she's sung in her life.

_Can't erase, so I'll take blame_

_But I can't accept that we're estranged_

_Without you - without you._

They trade off and on, seamlessly - like they had never stopped doing this - and this time she is not afraid to lean into the song and let her guard down - because this time she knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she is singing about the right boy.

**I can't quit now, this can't be right**

**I can't take one more sleepless night without you - without you.**

_I won't soar, I won't climb,_

_If you're not here I'm paralyzed without you - without you._

**I can't look, I'm so blind,**

**Lost my heart - I lost my mind without you, without you.**

He infuses the last line with so much emotion - more than she's ever heard from him before - that it makes her want to cry. Instead she looks at him and keeps holding his hand tightly, trying to convey that he's not going to feel that way ever again, as they finish it out, together.

_**I am lost, I am in vain,**_

_**I will never be the same without you - without you.**_

Their voices fade away in the empty auditorium.

"We still sound good together," Jesse comments offhandedly, surprising her. She blinks at him and he smirks, stepping back to tuck his hands in his pockets. He's really going to make her go all the way with this.

"We should do this more often," she says. "What are you doing Friday night?"

He laughs. "As long as we can make this our last first date, Rachel."

His tone is light, but there's a warning in there, she knows. It wasn't a question, but she gives him what he's looking for anyway. "It is. I'm done playing games, Jesse. You're stuck with me this time."

This time he doesn't smirk. His smile is wide and perfect. "I think I can live with that." He pulls her to him without protest on her part.

* * *

><p>The kids in Jesse's show choir, when they return from their break, find the director of Vocal Adrenaline kissing the female lead of New Directions in the middle of the empty seats.<p>

Now this one might rock the show choir circuit.

They'll figure it out. They always do.


End file.
